Monotony
by valbino
Summary: Character Study. Itachi stood over the corpse of his brother, half expecting it to jerk to life and land a killing blow. Oneshot.


Me:Okay, short note. I know I told myself not to submit new stories, but this is a nice little oneshot :D

shika:aka, she couldn't get this idea out of her head, and it was starting to bug her.

me:...

hidan:Seriously, the nara kid's got a point there xD

ita-sama:..no comment...

hidan:oh, sure, the subject of the oneshot fucking bothers you, yet you can't get out a word on it...

me:...-.-...enough. Hidan, care to offer a certain feature of yours...?

hidan:Fucking HELL? Are you telling me to be a prostitute?

me:...hell no!! I meant to ask/bribe/threaten/plea for reviews! D:

hidan:oh. SHikamaru?

shika:okay, okay...I will, dammit...-grumble- will you review Val's oneshot...please?

me:Okay. Before you start reading...

**a note on this. Yes, I use bold for important author notes. No, you cannot make fun of me.**

**ANYWAY. back to the note.**

**I wrote this because I was bored. okay? SO any flaws in Itachi's personality are fine. This is, essentially, a character study. Don't hold it against me. OKay, you can read now.**

**PUDDING. **(why yes, you can read/review. preferably the first option or both options...)

* * *

Uchiha Itachi

Uchiha Sasuke

One of them

had fallen.

-.-.-.-

Uchiha Itachi stared at the corpse of his brother, half-expecting it to jerk to life and land a killing blow. No, fully expecting it to jerk to life. Had it really been so simple...?

A simple kunai, thrust into the heart, had killed somebody who was using Chidori?

Itachi allowed Sharingan to dissipate, the urgent need for it gone, as there was no battle; more accurate that the battle in question was over. He narrowed his onyx eyes, attempting to find any sort of movement in the lifeless shell of his younger brother.

None.

The elder Uchiha murmured, "Foolish little brother. You did not heed my instruction." He went on, as if Sasuke were listening. Maybe he was. "The instruction was to face me after you had my eyes. Not before."

Itachi resisted the sudden urge to kick at the cadaver. If Sasuke were alive, there would be no need to simply sit there like a sitting duck. Unless his death were faked. No, if Sasuke had any sort of retaliation, were he alive, he would have struck the elder Uchiha down already.

"Such..." Itachi began, searching for the correct phrasing. "Such...a..._waste_."

He allowed his mind to drift among various memories. One that stood out immediately, however, was of the '_death_' of _Hidan_. By a _chuunin_. From _Konoha_.

The chuunin and Konoha part interested him more than Hidan, who was, in reality, incapacitated. By a chuunin, whom, after a bit of digging around, had been found out as Nara Shikamaru, who was called the most intelligent ninja in Konoha.

He focused his attention upon the cadaver of Sasuke, wondering vaguely what would happen depending on which village found him first; he shook off the thought, trying not to concern himself with politics overmuch. His own mind was far more entertaining than the petty fighting of hidden villages.

A sudden irony struck him. Had Sasuke not allowed his rage to consume him, he may have struck Itachi down. But he didn't keep his head; in fact, Itachi's calm had seemed to anger him more. Perhaps...If he had kept his head...like that Nara kid...

"Hm. Maybe I would be the corpse..." He trailed, off, mind already working.

He repeated the sentence, increasing the volume of his voice a slight amount.

"If Sasuke had kept his head, I would have been that corpse, and he the last Uchiha." The sentence settled itself into his mind.

Then, Uchiha Itachi allowed a low, hollow chuckle escape, the guttural sound reverberating a bit through the large cave. He smirked, chuckled again, the feeling unfamiliar. The smirk grew. He was the last Uchiha; he could continue the clan the way it was supposed to have been run.

As the insanity of his situation took hold, Itachi welcomed it. It was far more pleasant to his introverted mind than the petty politics of outside villages and other places. He momentarily closed his eyes, wondering how the hell he could create a near-permanent message to tell what-and who-had killed Uchiha Sasuke.

He had it: something etched into metal.

He smoothly flicked back one side of the black and red Akatsuki cloak to pull out a kunai from the pouch at his side. He hefted it, wondering where to find the metal. Having yet another idea, he untied the knot at the back of his head,the slashed leaf hitai-ate, and then set work to removing the metal plate from the navy blue cloth.

Holding the small rectangle of steel, he hefted it in the opposite hand of the kunai, looking at the relatively untarnished back of it. Perfect, or nearly so. Setting to work, he took his time wording out the message in his neat handwriting:

_If you are the one to find this scrap of steel, I suggest carefully reading this message._

_I, Uchiha Itachi, killed my younger, foolish brother Uchiha Sasuke. Not when I killed my clan, but a little over a decade later. _

_It was a waste, yes. It was a waste because he wouldn't even wait for his power to grow, seeking it from Orochimaru._

He paused his etching, coming up with the correct phrasing for the next-and final-sentences.

_So I killed him; he didn't keep his head, and thus his mind was taken over by his overzealous desire to kill me, in order to avenge our pathetic clan._

_I advise you to not take a similar course of action to one, or both, of us. It would most likely have a devastating effect upon your social status, of which I care nothing of... _

_That is my final warning._

_-Uchiha Itachi._

He reread it several times. It made relative sense. He crouched down and stuck the freshly-engraved steel into his deceased brother's mouth; even if the flesh. rotted, his skull should remain relatively intact, although he doubted it would take even the most inexpirienced hunter-nin to find the body. He looked at the incision of the kunai in his brother's robe, and made a derisive shake of his head as he stood up.

There was no need to grieve.


End file.
